


The Education of Margaret Dursley

by ppyajunebug



Series: Tales from Surrey [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:11:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ppyajunebug/pseuds/ppyajunebug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter isn't the only one who's had to deal with his fame at school.  Margaret Dursley is a witch with a last name that everyone knows- and not everyone likes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Letter

Margaret Dursley, age 10 years and 364 days, heard the pecking down the hall. She had been helping her mother change Vern’s diaper, and had just finished washing her hands when she heard a faint “tap-tap-tap”. Following the sound to her room, she saw an unfamiliar owl waiting outside her closed window. Unlike Lily’s tawny Piglet or Alice’s snowy white Nimble, this owl was sleek and black. Maggie heaved open the heavy window and took the letter it held with a trembling hand.

_Ms. Margaret Dursley_  
The Upstairs Corner Bedroom  
Number 27 Heathcote Road  
Tadworth, Surrey 

She knew instantly what this was. Lily had shown her the letter Al had gotten the year before, as she tried to copy out one for herself by hand hoping to trick someone (Maggie had no idea who) into letting her got to Hogwarts a year early. 

Her hands trembled. She had always hoped that the odd things she had chalked up to luck had actually been caused by something more. The books that seemed to appear right when she looked for them, the baby powder that fell from thin air onto Vern’s changing table when her mum grumbled that they were out again. She had seen Lily’s hair charge and spark when she was angry and they way she and Alice could sometimes flick a ball between them without touch, but she had never even tried to participate in these games. I’m just their Muggle friend, she had told herself. I need to be used to watching from the sideline.

Maggie, it seemed, would not be sidelined any longer.

~  
Melanie Dursley, wife of thirteen years to Dudley Dursley, had accepted two things when she married her husband. The first was the fact that she would never, ever be good enough in the eyes of her mother-in-law..

The second was the existence of magic.

While the first was a source of no small amount of strife within the Dursley family, the second she had, until this very moment, felt nothing but joy in. She had gained a much more pleasant sort of extended family than her in-laws on the day she met Dudley’s cousins, the Potters. Ginny was a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, and her source for the best cleaning supplies she could have imagined. Her daughter had cousins to play with, her husband had colleagues he respected, and her world expanded beyond what she could have dreamed of before her marriage.

All this did not prepare her for the letter Maggie had just given her.

Maggie stood next to her at the kitchen table, her face calm, but her blue eyes bright with excitement. A stranger would have thought her daughter unmoved by this new development. But Mel knew better. Maggie had always been an unnaturally calm child, rarely fussing unless something was truly wrong and growing into the voice of reason amongst her wilder cousins. Mel had witnessed the disruptive outbursts of magical ability that her nieces and nephews produced as small children, never attributing her daughter’s lack of dramatic displays to her personality rather than her ability.

“Mum?” Maggie asked hesitantly. Mel sighed and opened the letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_  
Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall  
(Order of Merlin, First Class) 

_Dear Ms. Dursley,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_  
Septima Vector  
Deputy Headmistress 

Mel took a deep breath. “Well dear,” she finally said. “It looks like we’ll need to write your Aunt Ginny about doing some shopping in Diagon Alley.”


	2. A Late Night Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's August 31st and Dudley can't sleep.

Dudley Dursley couldn’t sleep. 

It was the night of August 31st, the night before his little girl would go off to somewhere he couldn’t follow. The last few weeks had been eye opening. The number of questions Maggie asked him whose answers he couldn’t even begin to guess at, the things she could already do with her new wand, the things she had already learned from reading her new textbooks- they were so far beyond his experience that he was afraid in a way he had not been since she was first born.

She had been so tiny, he remembered, so red and wrinkled and quite ugly, really. He had lifted her in his huge, awkward hands and known how much strength he had and how easily she could be hurt. He had been terrified, not that he would hurt her, but that the world would. 

Dudley got out of bed, trying his best to make as little noise as possible and let Mel get her sleep. She had been much better with Maggie’s newfound abilities than he had, especially given that she didn’t work with wizards on a daily basis as he did. He crept out of the room and down the hall. He was about to turn down the stairs to get himself some water from the kitchen, when he saw that Maggie’s light was still on.

He opened her door to find her sitting up in bed, reading one of her textbooks in a whisper to her new cat, Perenelle. She looked up as he peeked in.

“I’m sorry Daddy, did I wake you up?” she asked. He smiled and went to sit on her bed.

“No sweetheart, I was awake already. What are doing up? We’ve got an early start ahead of us and you don’t want to be sleepy on the train.” Maggie looked at him with her blue eyes filled with tears.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “I’ve been reading my books, and they mention you and Grandmum and Grandpa and…they’re not very nice about it all. What if everyone hates me? What if it’s all been some big joke they’ve be planning to hurt you? What if I’m not good enough?”

Dudley’s heart broke as he gathered his tearful daughter into a hug. He’d slowly built his reputation up with the Ministry wizards he worked with, but the fact was that his name was still mud in most of the wizarding world. His work bridging the divide between the Muggle and Wizarding governments wasn’t known to any but those in the departments and his family. To everyone else, he was still the great Harry Potter’s big bullying cousin.

“Sweetheart, you are a witch. You couldn’t have done anything with your wand otherwise” He nodded his head towards the ebony wand lying on Maggie’s bedside table next to the vase of flowers she had accidentally conjured when she chose it at Ollivander’s. “Second, you don’t think Lily or Alice or any of your other cousins would leave you on your own at school, do you? You spent more time with them this summer than you did with your school friends.” Maggie sniffled into his shoulder as he stroked her hair.

“I wish I could tell you that no one will care that your last name is Dursley,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “The truth is that some people are going to judge you because of the mistakes your grandparents and I made.” He lifted her head up and looked her straight in the eye. “But Maggie, you are a very special young woman. Not because you can do magic, but because you are kind and understanding and everything I wasn’t when I lived with your Uncle Harry. You and Vern are the very best thing I have ever done, and don’t you ever forget it.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “Now go to sleep or you’ll fall asleep in the car and be carsick again”

Maggie gave him a watery smile and lay back on her pillows. Dudley pulled her covers up (much to Pernelle’s displeasure) and turned off her lamp. 

“G’night Daddy,” she said as he crept out of the room.

“Goodnight, little one,” he whispered, closing the door behind him.


End file.
